On Living Forever
by mabelreid
Summary: One shot tag to "The Last Death Of Henry Morgan. There are spoilers to the season finale within. You have been warned. Henry has told Jo his story and they discuss what it means to be immortal.


_**Disclaimer: see my profile**_

 _ **A/n this takes place immediately after "The Last Death of Henry Morgan." As we don't know if the series is renewed, I decided to write a little something that I think happened after Henry tells Jo, his long story. There will be spoilers for the episode.**_

 _ **On Living Forever**_

Jo stared out the window with eyes that didn't see the hustle and bustle of New York. She and tried to tell herself that Henry was insane and she was buying his story hook line and sinker. No, he wasn't insane she thought as her mind ran over everything he'd told her. All of the evidence had been there right in front of her eyes and she'd missed it. Some detective...

"Jo?"

She didn't jump, only because she saw his reflection in the glass as he walked up behind her with a couple of wine glasses in his hands.

She tried to force a smile on her face, but couldn't quite manage to make the edges of her mouth turn up. Instead, she turned and took the glass of blood red liquid he held out to her. Blood… There had to be a better comparison of color than blood red, she thought, inanely.

"I thought we might forgo more coffee as it's nearly time for supper."

"Is it?" She looked at her watch. "You were right," she said in wonder. "It was a very long story."

"I imagine you'd like to call the nearest sanitarium and have me locked up."

He didn't smile and there was something in his eyes that made her shiver. She clamped down on it. "No, but if you'd told me a year ago, before this case, and seeing this photograph, I would have had you committed."

She picked up the picture from where Abe had laid it on an end table in their apartment living area. She held it up.

"And now?" he asked after a pause and a sip of the superb vintage from his valued collection.

She looked at her glass instead of tasting the wine. "And now, I believe you."

The relief on his face was so great, she felt he might deflate like a balloon, but he rallied. "Despite the fact that I'm glad I don't have to lie to you, I'm not sure if I'm happy."

Years of training and dealing with surprises on the interrogation room steeled her so that she didn't let him see the unexpected rush of disappointment and irritation at his pronouncement. Nevertheless, she realized he'd seen something in her eyes.

"Jo, I don't mean to say that I'm unhappy with you. I only mean that after what happened with Abigail… She accepted me too, and then she left when the difference in our ages could no longer be hidden or explained away. I know she loved me, I know she realized she made a mistake and wanted us to be together again, but 30 years of believing she'd just put me behind her takes time to digest."

She relaxed a little and took another sip of her wine. Delicious smells were beginning to waft from the region of the kitchen, garlic, wine, butter, spices, and sizzling meat were making her stomach growl.

"I understand," she said and he could see that she did.

"People think they want to live forever," Henry was saying. "They think it'd be miraculous to wake up one day and find that two hundred years has passed and they're still among the living. They don't understand that immortality is a curse."

"Is that what you think?"

"That's what I know!" He snapped.

She didn't respond for a long time, but listened to Abraham singing in the kitchen. She kept her eyes on Henry, who seemed to be trying to get his emotions under control.

"Again, I must apologize, Jo. I didn't mean to snap at you like that."

"I won't say, "I know how you feel," because I don't, but I want to try and understand."

"I don't know how to explain it accept to ask a question. What would you do if you could live forever?"

She sipped from her glass and thought for a long moment. He didn't prompt her but his dark eyes stayed glued to her face.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "What did you think when you realized you weren't dreaming or in an insane asylum?"

He grinned at her. "Actually, my first wife committed me to one when I tried to demonstrate my secret. I was quite miffed about it."

Jo snorted laughter. "I imagine so."

"At first, I thought immortality was a gift. I thought of everything I wanted to do, but couldn't fit in one lifetime and it was like God had blessed me, but then I realized it was a curse."

"Why?"

"Because if you can't die, what do you do? Do you learn to subdue the part of yourself that wants to live in debauchery and vice, to kill, maim and torture simply because you can without consequences. Or do you give into it all? "

"You're thinking about Adam?"

"Yes. If he can be believed, and I think it is true, simply because he is psychotic, he's lived for 2000 years. What must that do to a person? Death is the great equalizer. I believe our sanity depends on our knowing that one day we will leave this life. Can you imagine a prison sentence that never ends? How many of us could survive mentally and emotionally year in, day after day, with all the problems and challenges we have without knowing that one day it'll all end."

"You're a good man," Jo put in. "You haven't gone crazy and started torturing and killing people."

"I wanted to kill Adam. I wanted revenge for Abigail's sake, but Abraham reminded me that I'm not a killer."

"Why do you look as though you did kill him?"

He watched her sip her wine. Her dark eyes stayed on him without wavering just as they did when she had a suspect under interrogation.

"I didn't, I simply damned him to eternal wakefulness in a paralyzed body. I felt, and still feel a huge sense of pleasure in what I did. I liked it, Jo. I'd say that's pretty sadistic, wouldn't you?"

He held up his glass and cut her off before she could speak. "Here's to Dr. Henry Morgan, sadist and –"

"No," she interrupted. "You are not a sadist. You did what you had to do, the only thing you could do. Remember, I've seen his handy work. To me, it's no matter how long you live on this earth. You get what you deserve in the end, even if no one is there to see. He deserved what he got, Henry. It was the only way."

"You're right," he finally said. "I know it's true. I don't know why I'm suddenly doubting my actions."

"Sorry to interrupt," Abe said as he came through the door, "but dinner is served."

"Smells delicious," Jo said as she followed them to the little dining area. "You didn't have to do all of this."

"Abraham loves to recreate recipes from Abigail's cookbook."

"This is my own creation, Pops."

Jo laughed when Abe winked at her.

"What?"

"It's nothing," she said and sat down when Henry held out her chair. "It's just hearing him call you Pops."

Henry grinned at her. "I am, shall we say, pleased to hear it in front of someone else. It's been a long time."

When they had finished their meal, punctuated by Abraham's amusing childhood stories, Henry walked her down the stairs to the door. "I'd like to stay and talk, but I have to work in the morning."

"I understand," he said and opened the door. "You need to process all of this. If you want me to stay away for a while, I will. No pressure."

"No," she said, "I don't want you to stay away. I will call you."

Something in her eyes made his heart speed up, and suddenly all the doubts he had were dispelled. He cared deeply for Jo, and doing what he had to do to protect her from Adam was worth it. If he took some pleasure from the act, well, that was something he'd have to work out in his own time.

"Thank you," and he surprised himself by taking her hand and kissing it.

She went a little pink in the cheeks. "You're welcome," she said faintly.

She made as if to leave, then turned back. "You're the strangest man I've ever known, Henry Morgan, but thank you for teaching me to live again."

With that, she was gone into the black of night and the noise of the city that never seemed to stop. He shut and locked the door.

"That went well," Abraham said from behind him.

"Yes… better than expected.

"Want another game of chess before bed."

Henry squared his shoulders. "Why not?"


End file.
